Chapter Text
Wrecker
Three days. It had been three whole karking days and Wrecker still couldn’t get into a sleep schedule since Kamino. Hunter, Omega and Echo did, like it was nothing, and Tech was. Tech. Which meant he wasn’t sleeping. He was flying.
Tech was probably lonely. Even if he wasn’t, he wanted to sit with Tech in the cockpit. So he did.
Even in just his blacks, he had to sit weird and slouchy to fit in the front seat.
“How long til Ord Mantell?”
--
Tech
”Wrong, I had my chip removed, a long time ago.”
The soldering iron in Tech’s grasp slipped as Crosshair’s words in the training room hissed through his memories once again. Tech had not wanted to believe Crosshair when his older brother had first spoken them, but then he had never known Crosshair to ever lie. Crosshair would avoid a topic or glare past him if he was uncomfortable with the topic of one of his brothers’ conversations, but Crosshair did not lie.
There was empirical data behind Crosshair and his - often blunt - honesty, and Tech had always appreciated that honesty before. Now? Tech did not know what to think of Crosshair, or what his brother’s words implied of Crosshair.
When had Crosshair’s inhibitor chip been removed? Had his brother’s inhibitor chip been removed on Kamino, the day he had been split from Tech and his brothers? Had the Empire removed Crosshair’s chip… and sent him to hunt down his brothers immediately after?
Crosshair would never have willingly shot Wrecker, would he? Tech almost wished to pull up his datapad and scour through his years of footage of Crosshair, if only to reassure himself that shooting Wrecker - and trying to burn Tech, Hunter, Wrecker and Omega alive with the downed Venator ’s engine - were not in Crosshair’s nature.
Which only made Tech waver ever further in his thoughts on his brother. If Crosshair had not had his chip removed the day the Bad Batch had fled Kamino, then when had it been removed? Before Bracca? Before Crosshair had fired that warning shot that had almost made Tech slip and fall, from a height Tech knew he could never live. Wrecker, possibly, but not Tech.
Crosshair had been adamant in his attempts to kill Tech and his brothers… and yet Crosshair had claimed in the training room that he did not want his brothers dead. Which did not match the data from Bracca, nor Kamino. Those times, Crosshair had been more than willing to kill his brothers, so why the sudden change in Crosshair’s temper after Bracca?
Were his injuries - which Tech had frozen stiffly at when Crosshair had first removed his helmet before them - from Bracca? When Tech’s plan had broken the engine cone from the Venator? And, if so, were Crosshair’s injuries severe enough to have damaged his inhibitor chip?
The heavy tread of Wrecker’s boots, followed by Wrecker querying Tech on how much time there was before they reached Ord Mantell, pulled Tech from his thoughts, though he was unable to fully chase away those negative thoughts of Crosshair. With a sigh and a slight turn of his pilot’s chair, Tech turned towards Wrecker, grip tight on his soldering iron, then adjusted his goggles instinctively.
“We have approximately an hour and thirty-eight minutes until we arrive at our usual docking port,” Tech answered his oldest brother, though Tech’s thoughts were anywhere but on Ord Mantell or Cid, then rubbed at the bridge of his nose with a tired exhale. “You should be asleep, Wrecker. You have not slept your required eight hours since before Daro, nor have you eaten enough for your increased metabolism.”
Tech did not know how to voice his concern for Wrecker, who had been so distraught and excited and lonely to have gone from having Crosshair beside them to having their brother willingly stay behind, in a manner that was… emotional. Not after Tech had suppressed his emotions for years during the Clone Wars, but he was worried nonetheless. Trying to remember how Hunter or Omega would have approached Tech if he had been acting as Wrecker was - Wrecker rarely approached Tech in the cockpit late at night - Tech lowered his soldering iron and actually looked at Wrecker.
“What manner of nightmare is bothering you, Wrecker?”
--
Wrecker
“It’s not like you’ve slept either. We have autopilot and Echo.”
Like that would actually convince Tech.
“I dunno… you think that platform is still up? It wasn’t up until the ship got on it. Ship’s not on it anymore.”
--
Tech
“It’s not like you’ve slept either. We have autopilot and Echo.”
Wrecker’s immediate refute of Tech’s prior statement made him release a tired, if not irritated sigh, before Tech turned a flat stare towards Wrecker. They had been through this thousands of times before, and Wrecker’s insistence on once again broaching the subject of Tech’s inability to sleep annoyed him.
His oldest brother knew Tech’s hyperactive mind made sleep nearly impossible, and working on Tech’s projects until he was mentally and physically exhausted were the only ways Tech could ever make himself sleep. A tiny surge of bitterness clawed through Tech as he thought of how the Kaminoans had never trained him to adjust to his hyperactive mind, but he pushed it away as he shot a deadpan stare towards Wrecker.
“Would you rather I wake Echo? I am perfectly fine, Wrecker, and I do not need your reminders of my inability to sleep,” Tech reminded his brother before he gestured to the copilot’s seat, growing ever more aware of the fact that something had drawn Wrecker to him - be it that Tech was the only other person awake on the ship, or Tech’s tendency to ramble when working on his projects, Tech was not fully certain.
But he knew exactly what Wrecker was implying by his mentioning of the platform, and Tech did not fully like how his chest tightened with worry when his thoughts snapped back to Crosshair staying behind on the raised platform. The platform had only risen out of the sea when Tech had lowered the Havoc Marauder almost to the ocean’s level, and had stayed up while the shuttle had been parked on the platform.
Would it stay up with Crosshair there, or was the platform programmed to only respond to the signatures of ships? The fact Tech did not know the answer deeply unnerved him, though he tried to hide that as he shrugged and fiddled noticeably with his soldering iron.
“I did not have the time to understand the design of the platform, nor do I know of any schematics or blueprints in the files I have downloaded from Kamino… So I do not know. I am as uncertain as you are, Wrecker, and it would be best to ask Omega for the function of that landing platform.”
Tech cut himself off before he mentioned Crosshair, uncertain of how to voice the worry he had over his brother and tried to fake an easy, unbothered shrug of his shoulders. Tech could not afford to make Wrecker worried, least of all when it was clear Wrecker was already anxious about Crosshair.
He buried himself into his work - random scraps of metal he was soldering together to focus his mind - and tried to ignore how scared he was. How much he disliked the idea of Crosshair willingly turning to the Empire of his own free choice - even as much as he understood that Crosshair had always wanted stability in his life, Tech could never have seen Crosshair siding with a tyrannical government such as the Empire.
Crosshair hated the Republic and the Jedi… so how could he tolerate the Empire of his own choice? Did Tech really understand Crosshair, or had his years with Crosshair hidden Crosshair’s true feelings?
It took a few moments for Tech to realize that he had spoken his thoughts out loud and, embarrassed at his inability to keep his thoughts to himself, Tech buried his nose into his project and hoped Wrecker would leave him be. Tech still had not come to terms with leaving Hunter behind on Daro, and now he’d left Crosshair again ?
--
Wrecker
“I don’t think any of us know Crosshair anymore. I thought… maybe I was hard on him for not coming to us sooner. Or we could of come to him after the chips… I don’t know. I thought he’d at least want to get off Kamino. Somewhere he can eat at least.”
He shifted, and nothing was comfortable, stupid chairs.
“I mean, do we suck so much he’d rather starve? He can’t even make a fire if he caught something and the sea water…”
Realizing he was bouncing his leg Wrecker got up. And then didn’t know what to do. Pacing would wake the others up and it would leave shit audio on Tech’s devices, Tech was just bunched up with the guts of the ship—“ gah this sucks, and I don’t like it! This sucks. ”
“Everything’s—I don’t know! I still miss him, even if he’d rather starve! He-he’s our brother. He’s our brother! You said somethin’ about his nature but shouldn’t being our brother be in his nature too? It’s a part of my nature, it’s a part of yours. We stay together.”
He felt stupid. So, so stupid and brutish, and million other words Tech could probably say. Just dumb. He couldn’t even help Crosshair. He’s his brother, the big one, and maybe he didn’t have plans like the others but he could protect.
And yet. Crosshair wasn’t here. Crosshair wasn’t going to come here. Crosshair was on Kamino, Kamino of all places to choose to be on.
--
Tech
Tech stared at Wrecker’s outburst, noting the agitated manner of Wrecker’s movements, his raised voice and-
Yes.
Wrecker was very, very upset about Crosshair, that much was clear from his body language, even if Tech could not understand his brother’s emotions through his voice. Tech adjusted his goggles as he observed Wrecker, noting the fact that Wrecker’s leg had started to bounce as he suggested that Crosshair believed his brothers “sucked”. A very unscientific analysis of Crosshair in Tech’s opinion but, as unsettling as it was, Tech agreed with Wrecker’s statement - to a degree.
They should have worked to get their brother back, and Crosshair should have allowed his stubbornness to wait long enough to be given a ride off Kamino. Crosshair was stubborn - his iron-will and strength had always been a source of support for Tech when they were cadets - about his decisions, a part of Crosshair’s defense mechanisms to protect himself from his vulnerabilities. Crosshair did not like to change his mind when he’d focused on a decision, least of all if a change in his thoughts were emotionally charged.
Crosshair had been exceedingly adamant about his belief in the Empire and Tech understood why. The Empire had control over almost the entire galaxy and, with the Empire, Crosshair did not have to run and hide as Tech and his brothers did. Crosshair, in his own way, was only trying to protect his brothers and himself by sticking with the Empire - no matter Tech’s inability to agree with Crosshair’s choice.
Wrecker’s stress was radiating off of his every tiny movement and, once again, Tech wished that he shared in Wrecker’s emotional intelligence. His brother would know how to approach Tech, should Tech have been the one having an emotional breakdown, but Tech did not know how to approach Wrecker. Not in a way that would soothe Wrecker in the way Wrecker deserved.
Tech was useless at comforting his brothers, just as he was useless in all matters of things that did not remotely link to his enhanced intelligence. But what good did enhanced intelligence afford him, if he could not support his brother?
Wavering with uncertainty and fear over messing up, Tech stood, placed the soldering iron on the pilot’s chair then approached Wrecker. He hesitated for a second before, with a stern set of his jaw, Tech placed his left hand on Wrecker’s right shoulder and looked up at his brother. His skin crawled as Tech met his brother’s eyes and, for Wrecker’s sake, Tech met his stare straight on.
“I believe that Crosshair does not trust us, just as we cannot trust him at this current juncture. I wish that he would have allowed us to carry him off Kamino too, but I do not believe that Crosshair could face being stuck in the Havoc Marauder alongside us.”
Tech blinked, contemplating his thoughts, then let out a low sigh as he shook his head and looked away from Wrecker. “Crosshair is our brother, no matter our difference in ideology, but it seems that he has chosen his ideology over family. And yet it is not just Crosshair who chose to forgo brotherhood. We did not discuss the loss of our brother, nor did any of us devise a plan to pry him from the Empire’s grasp.
“As it stands, both Crosshair and ourselves are at fault,” Tech explained, hoping beyond the Force that his tone was level and calm and did not betray the hurt pounding away at his heart, “for this break in our brotherhood. We cannot solely put the blame upon Crosshair, not when it is possible the Empire affected his chip in some manner to make him turn against us, nor can we absolve ourselves of guilt.”
Tech rubbed at the bridge of his nose, pushing at his goggles as he tried to fight the sudden surge of fire clawing at his chest - anger. Frustration… Oh, and bitterness. Yes… Tech was bitter, though at whom he was not certain.
They should not have left Crosshair behind on that platform, with no supplies or means of communication, no matter whether Crosshair wanted to stay with them. Crosshair was their brother, for Force’s sake, and they had left him behind a second time - even if the second time was, partially, Crosshair’s choice. The Bad Batch did not leave their own behind, no matter the dire reasons or circumstances and, before - during the war - Tech and his brothers had made efforts to always come back for one of their own.
Why had this ideal changed when the galaxy’s ruler changed?
When they had gained Omega, and lost Crosshair?
Had Hunter accepted leaving Crosshair behind?
It had been Hunter’s refusal to speak of Crosshair that had nullified any chance of Tech speaking his unease at leaving Crosshair behind, for Tech never spoke against his sergeant. Whatever Hunter decided, Tech followed. He would not be the one to break apart the ease his brothers had, and that…
“We cannot leave him there, Wrecker.”
--
Wrecker
Wrecker stood there slack jawed for a moment.
Tech agreed.
They were going to do something to help their brother.
“How do we get the others off the ship? Or can we turn around now— I don’t care, I just, I don’t want him to die. I don’t want him to die, Tech.”
A nauseous pit formed in his stomach. It had already been three days, he’d need water. And it was sunny when they left, he had no way to cool off, what if that got him sick?
“What is he’s already,” he looked away, “you know? I-I’d want to bury him if he’s…. yknow? Not-not fish food on Kamino.”
He scrubbed at his face, he couldn’t just start crying in front of Tech. That would scare him off and then nothing would ever get done and— he scrubbed at his face again and sniffed. “‘M sorry, I’ll stop- I just- a lot happening.”
--
Tech
When Tech saw Wrecker rub at his face surreptitiously, his chest ached. Wrecker was far more upset than Tech had previously ascertained, and hearing Wrecker’s voice waver and sniffle as he spoke made Tech even more aware of how ill-equipped he was for emotional support.
It was always Wrecker, Hunter or Crosshair who would comfort Tech when he was upset, never the reverse. Tech was far too annoying and unskilled at interpersonal interactions to be able to suitably, and correctly, support his brothers. But Tech knew that he could not pass Wrecker off to Hunter because of Tech’s poor social skills, least of all when much of Wrecker’s hurt was centered on a decision made both by Crosshair and Hunter.
With old memories of their cadet years, Tech took a hesitant step close to Wrecker then, ignoring how much he felt uncomfortable doing so, wrapped his arms around Wrecker in a hug. Wrecker always responded best to physical touch and verbal reassurances when he was upset, so Tech was more than open to ignoring his aversion to touch to help his brother.
As Tech allowed Wrecker to respond to his hug, he leaned into Wrecker’s warm chest and sighed. Wrecker was, and always had been, the Batch’s shield. The strength and dependability that he exuded an always reliable fall back, even during the toughest missions. The least Tech could do for Wrecker, when his brother was so clearly upset and distraught over Crosshair - and for how long, Tech did not know -, was hug Wrecker.
But a hug was not all Wrecker was looking for in reassurance, Tech knew, for his brother was worried about Crosshair’s health - and had even mentioned their brother’s possible death. If Wrecker spent the next few days worrying over whether Crosshair was alive or not, Wrecker would only become even more agitated and distressed, and Tech did not know how to deal with a fully agitated Wrecker.
So, while still hugging Wrecker - admittedly, Tech liked how warm and comforting his brother was, no matter his instinct against physical touch - Tech looked up at his oldest brother and tried to reassure him with his words.
“Crosshair is resilient and strong, Wrecker, I doubt that he will have perished in this time - though I understand your worries completely. Unless Kamino rained in the three days that we have been gone, he will have had no source of water to rehydrate from. It is very possible he could be delirious from the sun exposure, so we will need to take caution when approaching him,” Tech explained levelly. He realized that he was not just speaking for Wrecker, but also to ease his own worries over Crosshair, and that only made Tech’s words quicken.
“We do not have the time to drop the others off, not if we wish to aid Crosshair as he will need,” Tech pulled away from Wrecker now and hurried to the pilot’s controls, where he began the sequence to pull the Havoc Marauder from hyperspace, then turned to look towards Wrecker once more. “I will begin our route back to Kamino. It might be best for you to wake the others and explain to them what we are doing, but I will lock the cockpit. I do not know how Echo or Hunter will respond to our mutinous decision, but Crosshair is our brother - no matter his choice - and the least we can provide him with is transport off Kamino and supplies.”
For if we do not help our brother, we are just as bad as the Empire. Leaving Crosshair to die. The thought went unsaid as Tech pulled the shuttle from hyperspace, turned it around sharply and began to input the coordinates for Kamino - hopefully for the very last time in his life.
--
Wrecker
Wrecker found himself fully crying—Tech was hugging him and listening and they were actually going to help Crosshair — and stars, they’d almost lost everything, everyone, and he was tired, tired and overwhelmed and tired.
It was childish but he couldn’t stop.
He could stop being loud about it once Tech let go at least. Just his eyes leaking and quiet jerky breathing while he listened to exactly what Tech was saying, nodding along.
“Okay, yeah- yeah that’s a good plan! I’ll tell them. Um… can be let back into the cockpit before you lock it or is it too much…?”
--
Tech
The Havoc Marauder let out a confirming beep, but not loud enough to drown out the fact Wrecker was crying. He could hear his brother’s shaky breathing and it was obvious that Wrecker was crying - Wrecker .
Tech turned towards his brother as his hand hovered over the hyperdrive controls, unable to rationalize Wrecker’s crying logically. Had Tech misstepped in hugging Wrecker? Had that been the incorrect gesture for Wrecker’s current state of mind? Had Tech misunderstood Wrecker again ?
Anxiety wormed its way through Tech’s body as he continued to stare at Wrecker, desperate to understand where Tech had gone wrong in attempting to comfort his oldest brother. He fidgeted in place, unaware of the way his right leg had started to bounce nervously, before Tech straightened, shoved his emotions back into that tiny part of himself he’d locked them away in since the war, and nodded to Wrecker.
He had to exhibit calm to Wrecker, for if Wrecker saw Tech’s anxiety, he would burden Wrecker by drawing Wrecker’s worry towards Tech instead of himself. Wrecker did not deserve Tech’s burdensome emotions to distract him, not now.
“I will only allow you into the cockpit, Wrecker. I do not wish to speak with Hunter on this decision until we have reached Kamino…” Tech looked towards Wrecker swiftly before he turned back to the viewport of the Havoc Marauder and activated the hyperdrive.
Wrecker, at least, would understand Tech’s decision to go back for Crosshair. Wrecker would not look at Tech with disapproval in his decision, nor did Tech have to worry about Wrecker’s disappointment scorching his frame. Tech had obviously made a blunder in hugging Wrecker, but he did not dare apologize or ask Wrecker what he had done wrong - not yet.
--
Wrecker
Kriff, he’d scared Tech away— or upset him? He couldn’t tell. Tech did emotions weird. It had been agreed that Tech didn’t understand him and he didn’t understand Tech. That was okay. Just how things were.
Emotions made Tech skittish. That’s okay.
He carefully wrapped his arms around his brother and squeezed. Tech started it, so this was fine, right?
“Thanks,” he got up, “I’ll be back.”
Wrecker let the cockpit doors click shut, scrubbing his face clean.
Okay. Alright. It was okay. They were going to deal with Crosshair. He just… had to say that.
Have to go up and say ‘I know you two are in charge, but me and Tech aren’t going along anymore. Uh, sorry? Also we are heading to Kamino so I guess you can break the news to Omega okay bye.’
Kriff. Okay! He just had to hype himself up, and start going and not stop. It’s good! Everything’s all good! Its a good plan they aren’t going to back out of and Tech agreed!
He made his way to the bunks, relieved more than ever that Omega preferred her own closed in bunk.
And shook Hunter and Echo awake.
“We are going to Kamino,” he stood in a firm parade rest, “and getting Crosshair. And putting him on a planet he won’t die alone on. Its already been decided. The ships on its way to Kamino.”
--
Hunter
Hunter hurts.
He ached long before what happened on Daro but his plunge from the side of the hidden Imperial base had only further encouraged the uncomfortable pain in his chest. Adrenaline from the events of the last few days has reduced it to a dull ache, an insistent feeling where his heart rested that asked did I do the right thing? He was able to quell his feelings with Omega in his arms, safe and alive, though coughing and spluttering from the water that nearly killed her.
Until Crosshair saved her.
The thoughts are banished quickly to the same place as the ache in his chest he is ignoring. He hurts from exhaustion, as well, a punctuated tiredness that makes his head heavy and footsteps heavier as he leaves the cockpit with the intention to get some rest. He leaves the Havoc Marauder in Tech's capable hands with few words passing between them.
They have taken one of the longest routes back from Kamino to ensure their safety through hyperspace, avoiding the busier lanes they quickly learned the Empire frequented the same way the Republic had. It means he - and his brothers, and Omega - are able to rest but also means his survival instincts have worn off and quickly given way to exhaustion.
He lies in his bunk for hours, his enhanced senses instead focused on the sound of Omega in her room, breathing. In, out. In, out. It was better than listening to her drown; a sound he wanted to banish from his mind and was firmly locked away with the rest of the items making his chest ache. He dozes off eventually, when Echo falls onto the rack below him and falls into a light sleep.
The preceding few days in hyperspace were stiff and awkward. Hunter fell into a routine that concluded each day with him on the bunk, repeating the same pattern of being unable to sleep, his mind repeating: did I do the right thing? On the third day - today - he had just finished inventorying the new marks on his armor and marking the materials he needed to repair it. He had stared at the 99 plastered on the shoulder pad and the skull he had designed, a symbol his brothers adopted and made their own. The image accompanies him into the bunk that night and penetrates the thoughts he is trying to avoid. He is in a haze between asleep and awake when Wrecker's hand on his shoulder stirs him.
Wrecker looks... uncomfortable. The sight of his brother makes Hunter sit up quickly, even more so as Wrecker falls into a haphazard parade rest in the middle of their ship like Hunter is about to give him an order or a dressing down. Then he explains. Hunter stands up so quickly his body reminds him that he is still hurting.
"You did what?" he snaps.
Did I do the right thing? The thought returns with a vengeance. Now standing, Hunter has a perfect vantage to see the slight blotchiness of Wrecker's cheeks and also the matching skull on the pauldron of his armor. If Wrecker is upset, and has convinced Tech to turn the ship around…
He has convinced Tech. Tech. Who above all, Hunter expected to see the logical reasoning behind leaving Kamino as quickly as possible after what had transpired. They are doing the direct opposite of what Hunter asked - ordered - them to do and that hurts, too.
"We can't go back to Kamino," Hunter says, careful to keep his voice more steady than before, not wanting to upset Wrecker any more. He is allowed to be upset. But turning the ship around against Hunter's wishes - orders - and potentially throwing them all into danger again? Putting them potentially back into the scope of the Empire and perhaps Crosshair? They had only just gotten away.
Omega still had the vacant look in her eyes when all of them stumbled through stiff social interactions over the course of the last three days, unwilling but not quite able to discuss what had transpired on the planet's surface. They couldn't expect her to return, especially so soon .
"The Empire will be crawling all over it." He moves past Wrecker, towards the cockpit. "It's not safe."
--
Echo
Echo was sleeping. Or, at least, hoping that if he pretended to sleep long enough, he could trick his body into actually getting some rest. He did not have high hopes. Not after watching his once-home on Kamino crumble once and for all. And not after the figure of Crosshair standing alone on the landing pad as they departed grew smaller and smaller with increasing distance.
Watching the towers of Tipoca City sink into the deep waters left Echo with a strange feeling of detachment. A dream-like fugue he hoped to wake up from at some point. The way the clouds had parted and allowed a rare moment of light and sunshine only added to the uncanniness of the whole situation. By now he realizes it wasn't a dream. If this were a dream, or even a nightmare, he wouldn't be laying in his bunk staring at the blank wall.
Well, "his" bunk isn't exactly correct. Neither is it actually all that blank. Another pang of guilt strikes him. Echo reaches out and softly traces the math equations, lines, and random circles drawn out on the wall. Some faded and others with fresh, defined lines. A testament of what must have been late night musings of new shots Crosshair must have been working out the physics for. Notes on the air pressure and gravitational pulls of various planets. Random bulls-eyes scattered about. Echo was never bothered by not having a bunk of his own-- he only required half the sleep for the half of his humanity that remained. And Tech's sleep schedule was about as atrocious as his, so they usually had no trouble trading off. But he's been occupying Crosshair's bunk ever since he left.
...Or was left behind. Echo is still working out that part. Their departure felt abrupt. A premature goodbye with far too much left unsaid. But the others have known Crosshair for far longer than he has. He decided to trust their judgement against his own. But the longer he lays in Crosshair's old residence, the more he regrets his silence.
Was he not a pawn for the enemy too? An informant that got so many of his own brothers killed? Echo knows it wasn't his fault— he literally had no choice what they forced from his brain. But Rex could have just as easily court marshalled him. Labeled him a traitor.
But he didn't. Rex— and the Bad Batch, for that matter— gave him a chance when Echo sure as hell didn't feel like he deserved one. Though he didn't want to see the truth when Crosshair was hunting them down, he sees it now. They aren't so different. And he didn't fight to offer him the same chance that Crosshair gave him.
The realization hangs heavy on Echo's heart. But it's too late for this type of revelation, unfortunately. After the way they left things, there's no way we're going back...
Echo is thrust from his train of thought by large hands seizing him by the shoulder and shaking. He didn't hear Wrecker come up, but he knows for sure he's the one disrupting his "sleep". Echo rolls over, feigning drowsiness, but abandons the act as soon as he sees Wrecker's face. Blank, serious, maybe a little nervous? He evidently also woke up Hunter on the bunk above him from the way his eyes flicker up and down. Something's wrong.
"We are going to Kamino and getting Crosshair. And putting him on a planet he won't die alone on. It's already been decided. The ship's on its way to Kamino."
"What?" he mutters in shock, propping himself up on an elbow. Echo hardly has time to process this new development when Hunter is on his feet, reacting with a sharp tone. Wrecker and Hunter begin to argue, their sergeant storming off toward the cockpit. Evidently to put a stop to this.
But Echo was complacent over this issue once, and he won't make that mistake again. Whatever Wrecker— and probably Tech— have contrived, he's in.
He slips out of the bunk, standing at his full height with a straight back. The way they were taught to stand as cadets with strength and confidence. He catches Wrecker's attention and gives him a validating nod.
"So what planet are we dropping him at?"
--
Wrecker
“Any planet he won’t die in the middle of the sea on!” he stayed in front of the bunk’s exit, blocking the possible exit. “We just don’t want him to die at sea! We don’t even know if the platform stayed up!”
“If the Empire is there we’ll deal with it— we just gotta, we have to get Crosshair outta being stranded on a platform in the middle of the sea! He has nothing! No gear— and I didn’t just— I didn’t know him for that long to just let him die!”
Just keep the plan going. Tech believed in it! It would work if he just kept them out of the cockpit.
--
Echo
Echo winces internally at the thought of the platform retracting. Would Crosshair’s presence alone be able to keep it activated? Considering how low Tech had to dip the Marauder down just to get the damn thing to emerge from the ocean, a new fear that Crosshair's island dropped out from beneath him and sent him plunging into the murky Kamino waters flashes through his mind.
His eyes soften as he looks at Wrecker's determination. It's a look he recognizes all too well. It's what Echo imagined Hevy's face to look like as he used his last breath to destroy the Rishi Outpost. It's a face that Fives and Rex were infamous for. When they set their mind to something, Force help anyone who got in their way. And 99. 99 was a man that fused the broken pieces of himself together with molten beskar. Where the body the Kaminoans dealt him failed, he made up for it in his mental acuity. An unwillingness to stand idle. Echo still remembers drawing 99's body into his arms as his heart slowly ceased. That face remained etched into his features long after his body went stiff.
Say what you will about how the Bad Batch is different, but Echo knows there are some things no amount of genetic defects can mask. Clones, deficient or not, are still cut from the same cloth. The strength of Hevy, Fives, Rex--and 99 in particular-- is hopelessly intertwined with all of their DNA. And now he sees this face in Wrecker.
"I agree. Letting him go his own way is one thing. Leaving him at a clear tactical disadvantage is another. We don't know if the Empire is going to even bother scanning for lifeforms, let alone come back for Crosshair," A shiver runs up his back. Faint memories of lying far too still for far too long in the fiery explosion at the Citadel come back in momentary waves. He shakes them away. "It's a risk, but it's the right thing to do."
Echo says this more to Hunter than Wrecker. He's not sure when "it's not safe" became a valid excuse to abandon a mission that involves saving lives, but he's growing tired of it.
--
Hunter
Hunter grits his teeth and ignores Wrecker and Echo behind him. Instead, he focuses his attention on the cockpit door - slid shut and unresponsive to him when he steps into the vicinity of the motion sensor. He tries the manual release, un-surprised but shaken when the system returns a quick negative message he feels the same the way his heart sinks with the weighted question sitting on top of it.
It's the right thing to do. Echo lives up to his name, a title given to him by his batch that he shares soft stories about, his words floating from behind Hunter and as an answer to the question that refuses to leave him alone. The words echo around his head as if it is hollow and are punctuated by the silence from the cockpit.
" Tech ," he implores through the door. Part of him wants to lean in, plead with Tech, but another part summons anger, bitterness. All of them want to return to Kamino; their home currently lying in ruin and the place they - he - failed so miserably. How couldn't they see he is trying to protect them?
The Empire would be watching Kamino, using it as another tool in the systematic dismantling of the Republic. Returning there again held nothing but danger, like it had the first time, and it is why Hunter never tried again. It didn't matter how much he wanted to.
The thoughts he has been keeping at bay rise to the surface, to Hunter's distress, and he rests his fist on the closed door loud enough to make thud sound against the metal.
"Unlock this door now ."
--
Tech
The Havoc Marauder screamed through hyperspace, her engines a low whine as Tech waited for the storm to explode inside the shuttle. Wrecker had gone out to wake Hunter and Echo and tell them of the diversion in their flight pattern, and Tech was utterly terrified of how Hunter would react.
Tech never stood up to Hunter, never disobeyed direct orders, but now he had. Hunter had been clear - shoulders rigid and mouth terse - when he had given Tech the order to fly back to Ord Mantell, without any deviation in their course. And, as he always did with Hunter’s orders, Tech had obeyed them to the letter… until now.
Wrecker’s hug was almost a distant memory, a ghost that reminded Tech why he had chosen this course of disobedience, and that hug and Wrecker’s sorrow at leaving Crosshair were all Tech’s resolve. He had made Wrecker a promise, though not with any actual swearing of a vow, that they would go back to Kamino and he could not break it. If Tech broke the promise he had made to Wrecker, Wrecker would hate him - would see Tech as a traitor who could not hold promises because of his fear of disobeying Hunter.
If Tech turned the ship around in compliance with Hunter’s prior command, Tech would be letting Wrecker down. Wrecker had almost smiled when Tech had agreed with him about the folly of leaving Crosshair stranded, and that smile had come from Tech’s actions. If Tech failed Wrecker, his brother would become distraught and angry with Tech-
But Hunter would be furious too. Tech knew that Hunter was going to react poorly when he registered exactly what Wrecker was suggesting, and locking the cockpit would only further seal Hunter’s anger. Hunter often became exasperated with Tech but Hunter never truly showed anger towards Tech… Yet Tech already knew that his rash disobedience would infuriate his sergeant.
Tech clung to the Havoc Marauder ’s yoke as if it was a lifeline, the only method of grounding that he had available to himself. He could not distract himself with a project, nor did Tech have Crosshair around to ramble to, and Wrecker was busy with Hunter and Echo. So Tech had nothing but his ship to focus him from the terrifying thoughts of letting Hunter and Wrecker down that were desperate to unfocus him.
Wrecker’s voice was a distant, muffled rumble, followed by Hunter’s smokier - angrier - retort, in the hold of the Havoc Marauder, and Tech could do nothing but flinch. Had he made the right choice in disobeying Hunter for Wrecker and Crosshair? He had made the right choice to support Wrecker, who had come to Tech specifically with his emotional turmoil over them leaving Crosshair for the second time, and Tech could not waver. He couldn’t, not if he wanted Wrecker to continue to like him.
But what if Hunter hates me for this? Then what? If he hates me, he’ll yell at me for every choice I make after this one. Hunter is our leader, he’s the one who is supposed to make the decisions! Not me!
Tech’s chest constricted, choking the air from his lungs as his thoughts ran with images of Hunter’s disapproval. The hard set of Hunter’s jaw and how he would shake his head at Tech and turn away, back to Tech in a purposeful show of disgust and anger. It was impossible - illogical - for Tech to hope that Hunter would understand his and Wrecker’s choice, and thus he knew that Hunter’s anger would be directed solely at Tech.
Tech heard his brothers’ voices carry slightly before he saw the Havoc Marauder retort with a quiet negative to Hunter’s request to open the cockpit doors. The Marauder was loyal to Tech, who had fiddled with the ship and tweaked it over the years since he had selected her from a line up of ships after passing his pilot’s exam on Kamino, and she was his ship. Tech knew the shuttle better than anyone in the Bad Batch, and he had ensured that Hunter would not be able to override Tech’s commands, not even if Echo assisted him.
But the fact that Hunter was there… right at the cockpit doors and, logically, seething terrified Tech. He stared out of the Marauder ’s viewport, trying desperately to ignore Hunter.
“Tech.”
The sound of Tech’s name hissing from behind the cockpit’s doors made Tech hunch into himself even further, his heart slamming against his ribs as he waited for Hunter to snap. Hunter was going to yell at him- Was going to tell Tech that he could never trust him again, that Tech was disobedient and as unruly as Crosshair, and Hunter would tell him that Tech had let Hunter down. That Hunter could no longer trust Tech to fly the Havoc Marauder and his older brother would strip the shuttle away from Tech.
Then he heard Hunter slam his fist against the door and Tech could do nothing but flinch violently and wish he could burrow into a tiny corner of the shuttle and hide. He hated confrontation, especially from his brothers, and he never wanted to be on Hunter’s bad side. Tech’s heart started to race, pounding at his ribs with the force of a sledgehammer, but he did not dare-
“Unlock this door now .”
Tech utterly froze at Hunter’s command, the slamming of his heart stopping the moment he heard Hunter’s raised voice. Tech looked down, mind blank of anything but Hunter’s command and, slowly, Tech reached for the control’s to the cockpit doors. He had to tell Hunter sorry! That he had made a mistake fueled by his emotions and-
Wrecker’s wounded, sorrow-filled gaze flashed through Tech’s embattled thoughts, pausing his fingers mere centimeters from the cockpit controls. Tech had made Wrecker a promise. They had to go back for Crosshair. Their brother who they had left stranded-
Hunter was going to hate him. Hunter was never going to be able to look at Tech without remembering how Tech finally disobeyed him, and disobeyed Hunter on a matter as important as hiding from the Empire. Tech knew that much of Hunter’s choice came from his desire to protect Omega from seeing Kamino in the state of ruin the Empire had left it in, and that it had been partially Crosshair’s choice to stay… But they had left their brother stranded.
Tech’s foot slammed against the durasteel plating underneath Tech, his leg exhibiting every ounce of anxiety that was choking at Tech’s lungs and making his chest feel stiff and empty of air. He was disobeying Hunter - Hunter ! But he was disobeying him for Wrecker, and for Crosshair… Tech had already made his choice, he could not go back on that choice - Hunter wouldn’t allow him, would he?
Hunter knows what he is doing, idiot. He’s the leader for a reason. Turn the ship around-
“No,” Tech snapped out loud, the words slipping from his mouth before he could stop them - and his heart stopped.
Even if Tech had whispered his refusal, Hunter would have heard him… It was impossible for Hunter to have missed Tech’s raised voice, even if he had not meant his refusal directly towards Hunter’s demand to open the cockpit doors. Tech never told Hunter no. Never!
Tech looked towards the cockpit doors and imagined Hunter’s scorching, disappointed glare boring under Tech’s skin and leaving a permanent burn mark. He wavered between refusal and compliance, hand jerking towards the hyperspace controls-
No.
Tech clenched his fingers around the yoke, took a deep breath, then straightened his back and set his resolve. He had to be strong like Wrecker and determined like Crosshair. He had to, for their stranded brother and for Wrecker.
“I refuse to leave Crosshair stranded, Hunter. What kind of brothers are we if we abandon Crosshair without provisions or a means to survive? We may not agree with his decision, but we cannot leave him stranded. I am refusing your order, and I will not allow you inside. I cannot. I made a promise to Wrecker, and I will not break it. Not even for you.”
--
Hunter
Hunter was bred, DNA twisted and manipulated to the Kaminoans' decree, to lead. It is what he was told he was good at since he first decanted; the earliest thing he remembers receiving any shred of positive attention for before the normalcy of his brothers became a more comforting routine. Hunter was pushed through command tracks with clones double his age, and did well, because it is what was expected of him. He shouldered responsibility, protected his batch, and made the difficult decisions; a context which moved quickly from navigating Kaminoan fascination with their enhanced abilities to ensuring every member of his squad - his brothers - returned alive and safe from the battlefield. And then there was his enhanced senses, the more poignant reason for his existence, another thing the Kaminoans poked and prodded at but only because it was harder to understand than the concept of being a good leader.
His heightened senses means he feels Tech's words of refusal in his bones, how the inflections of his voice bounce off the four walls of the cockpit and reverberate through the door his fist is resting against. He is unsure if it's the force of the sound against the door or the sinking feeling in his heart which makes his hand start to shake.
Tech, the same as Hunter, was bred for purpose; his intelligence and an impressive tact for technology. He was remarkable, the same as all his brothers, and the routine they lapsed into once they were old enough to understand their purpose for being was comfortable, if not difficult. It was always made easier by the comforting presence of Hunter's brothers by his side. Hunter could always trust Tech to be the voice of reason: consistent, logical, and honest. He worked as the foundation as much as he did the glue, with his nature, which stirred the need to protect him in all of the batch - including Echo when he joined as someone they didn't know they were missing.
And yet, this is the same Tech who is currently disobeying Hunter so directly in tandem with the rest of his brothers. All of them, including Tech, think Hunter has done the wrong thing. They disagree with the choice to scramble away from Kamino as fast as possible. They disagree with the choice to leave Crosshair behind.
Crosshair.
The thought of their wayward brother means Hunter's forehead comes to rest against the cool durasteel of the cockpit door. His eyes fall closed as he continues to reign in his distress, untamed through how he can't force a steady breath, or stop his hands from shaking. The contact is grounding but does nothing to aid the thoughts stirring to the top of Hunter's mind and that question - now answered - pulling his heart down in his chest.
They left Crosshair there again. They left him on Kamino again, and now Tech is hurtling them back towards Kamino again, and Hunter isn't going to lose any more brothers. The Empire would have picked Crosshair up days ago, he would have assimilated perfectly back into their ranks because as much as Hunter disagrees, it is where Crosshair chose to be. Not here, where all of them can't even agree on what the right thing to do is. Hunter asked him, but Crosshair's anger hadn't evaporated when the sun came up.
Hunter's anger does, quickly. The brief burst of adrenaline the hot emotions offered him withers away and he is left with the same aching exhaustion that continues to accompany him through every waking moment. The exhaustion weighs on his heart this time, too, enough that Hunter sinks more into the closed cockpit door. He turns, pressing his back to the door, and slides down to the floor. He rests the back of his head on the door, his chin angled up to the roof, and is careful not to meet Wrecker and Echo's eyes as they watch and no doubt listen to his and Tech's exchange.
"Tech, I..." he starts to say, but stops. They are all in agreement here, going against him and his decision as their leader. He wonders how long they debated on this with each other, especially for him not to hear in their close quarters through the extended hyperspace journey. He wonders for how long they have been doubting his choices. He wonders what other choices have been wrong. "I... I don't think Crosshair will be there. The Empire will have picked him up already, like he wanted. And if we go back there, knowing the Empire will be there... It's not safe."
Echo's words continue around his head, It's a risk, but it's the right thing to do.
He thinks of Omega hooked up to their machines, of her being twisted and molded into the Kaminoans idea of perfect. He thinks of the Empire looking to exploit her the same way the Kaminoans - the Republic - toyed with their own lives. He thinks of the batch splitting up, forced to do so as the Empire's grasp spreads across the galaxy, something that they just can't quite wriggle out of. It makes sense to run, to find a corner and hide, to keep them all safe. How could Tech, out of all of his brothers, not see that?
"Open the door," he asks, again. "Please."
--
Tech
Fear choked at Tech’s throat as he waited for Hunter to yell at him, for his older brother to command him to change his mind, but he heard nothing. Tech’s foot bounced anxiously as he reviewed everything he had said to Hunter, every single inflection of his voice, and drug his hands through his hair.
Tech believed he was making the correct choice for all of his brothers, but Hunter’s refusal to yell at him was making him even more worried. Then he heard movement at the door, a shuffling sound that ended with a slight thump on the durasteel plating that laid across the Havoc Marauder ’s floor. Tech listened as he heard Hunter breathe out his name, then pause mid-sentence.
For a moment, Tech wished that he had installed cameras in the Havoc Marauder ’s hold, if only so he could see the barely restrained anger he knew Hunter was feeling. There was no other reason behind Hunter’s pause besides anger, for Tech had disobeyed a direct order from his brother. Hunter had to be furious, enraged, bitter even at Tech’s refusal to listen to him, and Tech wished his older brother would just yell at him already.
To get his anger out and make it clear just how wrong Tech’s decision to go back to Kamino was. Tech was acting out of emotion by returning to Kamino, and not logic. He had been trained since he was a cadet to act out of logic and to ignore any folly or tug of emotion, yet Tech’s emotions had made his decision for him. Hunter relied on Tech for his rationality, not his inability to control his emotions, nor the fact that Tech was endangering his family by returning to Kamino.
Tech swallowed as he heard Hunter let out a tired breath from behind the door and waited - waited for Hunter to finally tire of Tech. It had always been inevitable, a fact Tech had long acknowledged would someday be proven right.
"I... I don't think Crosshair will be there. The Empire will have picked him up already, like he wanted. And if we go back there, knowing the Empire will be there... It's not safe."
Hunter’s words were met by silence from Tech as he tried to process everything Hunter had suggested, and how to respond to the fact that Hunter was not yelling at Tech. Hunter was applying rational to his thoughts… but…
"Open the door. Please."
Tech heard the plea in Hunter’s words, in the tired exhale his older brother let out, and he hated it. Tech wanted to obey Hunter, to open the cockpit doors and allow his sergeant to dissuade him from his current path - and all that this disobedience implied - but Tech could not. He had always been passive and more than willing to listen to his brothers, even when Tech disagreed with their choices. But this was a matter he had to stay strong for, as Tech had already found his line and he could not back down from it.
Tech checked the Havoc Marauder ’s hyperdrive coordinates, then turned towards the cockpit doors. He had to be careful with what he said to Hunter, lest he truly drive Hunter into realizing how troublesome Tech was to the team. Tech took a deep breath, adjusted his goggles nervously, then shook his head to accentuate his refusal - even if Hunter could not see him.
“While I understand your concern, Hunter, we do not know whether the Empire will have returned to Kamino in the time since they destroyed Tipoca City - nor whether they would have reason to return. The facility had been stripped of all manners of interest the Empire could have sought from Tipoca City, and their intentions in destroying the facility while we occupied it was wholly intentional,” Tech rubbed at the back of his neck nervously as he spoke, the anxious slamming of his heart and unmistakable feeling of cold sweat running under his blacks an obvious sign of his stress Tech knew Hunter would be able to sense.
“The Empire intended to kill Crosshair, just as they intended to kill us in the aerial bombardment. If they would have returned to Kamino, it would only be to ensure the destruction of Kamino and all of us. I have had the ability to scramble the Havoc Marauder ’s signature since Pantora, and I will be able to mask our shuttle from any possible Imperial ships that could be in orbit over Kamino. I do not believe it is likely that the Empire would have returned… and I would rather return and find that Crosshair is gone, than never not know our brother’s fate.”
Tech paused in his dissertation as thoughts of abandoning Crosshair to the Empire or to starve filled his thoughts. If Crosshair was still on the platform and Hunter was inaccurate in his assessment of the Empire, then what would it mean for the Bad Batch if they left Crosshair?
Left one of their own to starve, with no way off the planet, and no hope to fight for his own life. And it would be Tech and his brothers’ choice to leave Crosshair on that platform - to leave Crosshair to die. Since when had the Bad Batch’s ideals become so twisted that they would leave one of their family to die?
Anger suddenly surged through Tech’s veins, burning out his normal monotone as he glared at the cockpit door and slammed his fist against the Havoc Marauder ’s yoke. “Are you saying that we can leave Crosshair behind? To die? To starve? Do you not care for our brother? His morals do not matter when we are making a choice that is just as wrong as his!
“We do not leave our own to die - at least we never did before! Why has this changed, Hunter? Why have we changed? If we leave Crosshair, then we are no better than pirates! Wrecker and I are only proposing that we find our brother and bring him to a planet where he will have the chance to survive! If Crosshair is gone and the Empire is orbiting Kamino, then there is nothing we can do - but if Crosshair is still on that platform?
“Do you want Crosshair to die, Hunter? Because that is what will happen if we do not return to Kamino to ascertain the fate of our brother. He will die, and we will be responsible for his death. I do not wish for that to be our fate - for us to become brother killers.
“We are returning to Kamino, and that decision is final. This is my ship, and I will not waver from this course. Not until I know what has happened to my best friend, no matter what comes. Crosshair would have gone back for you, if the roles were swapped, and you know that.”
Exhaustion hit Tech as he finished his outburst, one that had come from suppressing his emotions for four years, and it took all of his strength for him to turn back to the Havoc Marauder ’s controls. His hands wavered on the yoke as Tech pulled his goggles over his forehead and allowed himself to cry, no longer caring if his brothers realized that he had completely and utterly broken down.
--
Wrecker
“Hey-hey let me in, Tech,” Wrecked said gently, only loud enough to be heard, “nobody’s gonna come in but me unless you want ‘em.”
And pushed Hunter off of the door.
When the hell was the last time Tech cried? They’d had to have been cadets, probably only early on.
He’d never even yelled before, just the once when he fucked around with Tech’s goggles.
Kriff he should of been there for him earlier— he just can’t not be there for a brother, not again, not ever. He should of been louder about Crosshair from the beginning, none of this would be happening right now.
One job and he couldn’t even get that right.
“It’s gonna be okay.”
--
Echo
Things were unraveling faster than Echo could process— even with the millions of cybernetic wiring implanted into his brain. It began when he sided with Wrecker. Going back for Crosshair was the right call and he wasn't afraid to voice it anymore. But seeing Hunter's wide eyes as he slid to the floor in front of the cockpit— the way bitter insecurity bled through his short fuse of anger like a mask being torn clean off his face— that made him realize this was more than just a single problem needing to be solved. This was a bomb that had been ticking insidiously for far longer than any of them had realized.
And then Tech's voice rang out from the other side of the door. A simple "no" with the shaky undercurrent of someone tearing at the seams that confirmed that the wrong wire of this bomb had been snipped. Echo was holding his breath as the uncomfortable quiet in the Marauder suddenly turned to unbridled fury trapped within the confines of the cockpit.
Echo has never heard Tech yell. Not like this. Not with his voice raw and cracking as his venom-laced words continue to tumble out. His heart is racing— a part of him this close to tearing down the damn door so his brother isn't alone. Another part of him frozen in place all together. All Echo can do is stare down at Hunter who has lost all the color in his untattooed cheek. The other half of his face seems to have gone ashen.
The yelling was bad enough, but the crying — those sobbing gasps and soft sniffles shook Echo to his very core. Tech was always calm. Frustratingly nonchalant. Level-headed and logical to a fault. They'd spent long nights alone in the cockpit, longer days milling about doing repairs. Echo had grown close to Tech in this time. Close enough that some nights their conversations veered to his past. Tech listened to Echo and his incoherent stream of consciousness about the snippets of memory that had been slowly returning to him in his dreams and at random times during the day. He listened with the same quiet respect that Echo gave him whenever he began to info-dump about something. And Echo was grateful for the open ears and lack of judgment when his own tears occasionally spilled.
So to hear him breaking behind the locked door was enough to convince him it was time to break down the door. He takes a step forward, and then stops. when he realizes Wrecker has already moved forward to provide comfort.
Hunter is cast aside by their larger brother who was now whispering against the door. Wrecker's voice is soothing and low. As much as Echo wants to help Tech too, he also has the good sense to not crowd him while he's breaking down. Wrecker will handle things on that end.
Though he agrees with Wrecker and Tech about returning to Kamino, their efforts have also caught Hunter by the throat in the process. Hunter is stubborn, but even in his misguided moments Echo knows he means well deep down. Echo saw the way his hands were shaking and his gaze failed to meet his and Wrecker's. The way his sentences never quite came to fruition.
Hunter was shattering internally just as much as Tech was exploding externally. And Echo, with extensive experience of strife within a squad, does the only thing he knows how to do— hold on and try to keep things together in any way he can. So he looks down at Hunter. Lowers himself to sit next to him. A quiet show of support even when it is Hunter's own orders they are disobeying. Because it isn't Hunter their brother they are rebelling against, but Hunter their sergeant and leader.
And Echo can be there for his brother Hunter even if he disagrees with his sergeant. The question is, can Hunter find that same distinction within himself?
--
Hunter
Tech is crying, and Hunter just hurts more.
The first ache is the familiar one that followed him since flying away from Kamino for the first time, leaving Crosshair alone on the landing platform in Tipoca City - still standing at the time, though even that is arguable. This is the same ache that chased Hunter through the months of navigating the new world order they have been thrust into, trying to ascertain the right thing to do that currently is contested between all four of them.
The second ache is the protesting of his body when Wrecker pushes and forcibly moves him out of the way to get their brother. He is no stranger to physical aches in the slightest, Wrecker knows this, but Wrecker also doesn't even look at him, just shoves him out the way and focuses on Tech.
Tech is the third ache. Hunter doesn’t mean to hurt any of them, he never has and never wants to. His decisions have always been motivated by keeping them all safe from harm in its many forms. All the steps he has ever taken, even before the Fall of the Republic, and even again before the outbreak of the Clone Wars, have been for them. Tech knows that. All of them do. They have to.
Don’t they?
Hunter can’t block the sounds of Tech’s sobs out. The sound seems to rattle around in his brain like there’s too much turbulence through his thoughts; thoughts that increase in pace and filter into all of the hurt radiating around his body. That, or Tech’s crying so loud that it’s impossible to block out with their proximity, all four of them huddled up at the door of the cockpit. Stars, it’s a miracle they haven’t woken Omega - one small mercy, one he grounds himself with as Echo sits down next to him. But the ARC trooper is quiet and still, a firm yet unyielding presence, the same as Wrecker’s soft words to their ailing brother in the cockpit.
It’s the right thing to do.
Do you want Crosshair to die, Hunter?
Crosshair would have gone back for you.
These words left his brothers’ lips - Echo and also Tech’s just now, the latter punctuated by fury Hunter has never heard out of his brother’s mouth at that calibre. Even in their cadet years when they were young and were beginning to realise the cruelty around them, the anger was never this poignant nor directed at any individual person. Now it is directed at Hunter, by Tech.
As he heard Tech’s words through the cockpit door, the anger from before begged to return with renewed ferocity, but the widening, glacial hole in Hunter’s chest swallowed it before it could come to fruition with fiery words of his own. There are so many things he could say to Tech, to Crosshair, and to all of his brothers. There are so many things he stops himself from saying, so as not to burden them, and so many things he wishes he could say if it was guaranteed it would not come out in a way that hurts them.
Hunter never wants to hurt any of them. But Hunter hurt Crosshair; hurt him so badly that his brother would rather stake his life on an abandoned planet framed by the smoking ruin of their home. Hunter took his rifle, his supplies, his ship and his brothers, and left him there.
Crosshair is the final ache in his chest, though arguably, this ache is more akin to a sum of all his current pain. Crosshair would have gone back for him. Crosshair would have fought tooth and nail for any of the batch’s safety, Hunter included. Crosshair has, countless times as they grew up and transitioned from children, to soldiers, to deserters, to whatever this currently is; huddled together in the Havoc Marauder struggling to put meaning to everything they’ve been through.
“You’re right.”
He doesn’t recognise the sound of his own voice. Hunter keeps his eyes fixed on a point on the wall at his eye level, just behind Wrecker’s boot.
“We shouldn’t have left Crosshair there. We don’t leave a man behind, that never changed, but… Everything else changed. The Empire. The chips. And Cross. He got caught up in the changes and I left him behind. But he also tried to kill us. I know - I know it was the chip, or at least I thought it was. I wanted nothing more than to storm Kamino and rescue him because he’s our brother, he always will be, but I couldn’t bring you all back there if it meant possibly having to leave another man behind again. And if that was because it was Cross who killed one of you… I… I don't know what any of us would have done. I had to think about the whole squad. That’s my job and I…”
Failed.
Do you want Crosshair to die, Hunter?
Hunter swallows thickly. With how hard he is staring at the wall of the Havoc Marauder, he is surprised he hasn’t worn a hole out into the vacuum of space. They are all listening to him, still with the same doubt in their eyes when they no doubt discussed this and made the decision together to turn the ship around. Or, to do the right thing .
“All I’m thinking about is what’s best for the whole squad. And going back to Kamino right now, it’s dangerous. We got away because we were lucky, not because of anything else. And I’m not about to throw that chance away if I can help it. I want to put as much distance between us and the Empire as possible. Going back to Kamino… It’s the opposite of that.”
--
Wrecker
The thud of Hunter hitting the ground is enough for Wrecker to suddenly feel like a live wire is being pressed to him, churning his insides.
Tech is still crying as Hunter keeps explaining why they’re all wrong, how their ideas are going to hurt everyone.
He puts his forehead to the coolness of the metal door.
Everything is happening and it hurts, it hurts so bad but there’s nothing to hit, just rewinding of memories over and over and over, mixed in with the current situation. He didn’t do enough, he hasn’t been doing enough, should have done more, should have everyone here with them now, have had Crosshair make some joking remark after he got his chip removed to take away how serious it all was.
Crosshair wasn’t there. He isn’t here. His other brothers are here, and they’re in pain.
“Is just- it’s was my idea- ‘n everything is just wrong now and it’s been wrong for a while and I should have said something— I-I just want things to go backward. We aren’t aren’t suppose to be like this, nothings been making any sense for months. ”
Tech is crying and Hunter is on the ground and Crosshair might be dead.
“Why’d we have to let the Empire change things, we’ve never let anybody change things before. We were clone force 99, why’d it change?”
--
Omega
Omega was laying on her side in her “room” pretending to be asleep like she did these past 3 days, the exhaustion was getting the best of her and she could feel it, but every time she closed her eyes she could see the floating bodies of her brothers had they drowned in Kamino and if she managed to fall asleep again afterwards she was plagued with horrible and painful flashbacks of her own time on Kamino when Nala se conducted experiments on her, leaving her in pain and unable to move or eat for several days leading to a feeding tube becoming a routine part of the experiments, kriff she’d already had one by now if Nala Se was here, avoiding and lying to her brothers about eating her ration bars, she either said she already ate or that another of her brothers brought her one. When her brothers insisted she take it she waited until they were out of view and hid them under her pillow
she had noticed the tension rising between her brothers and tonight she could hear them arguing about getting crosshair back.
It became too much all their voices buzzing around in her mind, the exhaustion and her mood were sour to the point where she couldn’t take it anymore and grabbed Lula, opening her curtain and throwing the stuffed toy as hard as she could at Hunter before exploding at them “ALL OF YOU SHUT UP! RIGHT! FUCKING! NOW!” Her feet stomped with each of the words to emphasize her frustration “YOU ARE BROTHERS! YES, IT HURT ME TOO THAT CROSSHAIR DIDN’T WANT TO COME, BUT HE’S STILL OUR BROTHER SO ACT LIKE IT!!! YOU HAVE BEEN TOGETHER YOUR ENTIRE LIFE!! DOESN’T THAT MEAN ANYTHING TO YOU HUNTER!?!?” She yelled at him her entire tiny body shaking in this uncontainable rage she was experiencing “FUCKING KNOCK HIM OUT AND PUT HIM IN THE HOLD AT WORST HUH?! AND YOU’RE GOING TO APOLOGIZE TO TECH FOR MAKING HIM CRY IS THAT TOO FUCKING HARD TO GET!?” She says looking at them
--
Hunter
Clone Force 99 changed because of the young girl currently standing at the base of the rear cannon, her room, her shoulders heaving with the exertion of her words. Much like Tech’s, they dripped with anger, and again it was directed at Hunter.
None of this is Omega’s doing, yet, it all started with Omega. They wouldn’t have lost Crosshair if it wasn’t for Omega and the insistence they return to Kamino for her. That was the right thing to do at the time and Hunter knew none of them would have chosen differently. And none of them could ever blame her, or think anything in the untoward direction of blaming her. It isn’t her fault, but things changed when Hunter suddenly had a child to care for as well as his batch. A child requires different attention than a soldier, a lesson he learned early on and a lesson he took quickly to heart.
Hunter thumbs Lula, the doll having landed in his lap after Omega threw it at his chest. He sets the doll to one side and threads a hand through his hair.
He hurts. All of his batch are hurting, Omega included.
Tech is still crying, Omega is breathing harshly with ill-contained fury, Wrecker is leaning heavily on the cockpit door, and Echo is sitting next to Hunter watching them all come apart at the seams. And Crosshair -
Crosshair could be dead.
Or, Crosshair could be safely with the Empire by now, picked up days ago and returned to their ranks where he wanted to be. After all, why would he choose to be here with them all currently like this ?
They are here because of Hunter’s choices; Hunter’s leadership. What he was bred to do, in part, and what he has been doing since they were children with the sole intention of keeping them all safe. But somewhere between rescuing Omega from Kamino, losing Crosshair, and now losing Crosshair a second time their views of the right thing to do has changed. As Wrecker said, they have changed.
“Okay,” he rumbles. “Okay. We’ll jump back to Kamino. We can check Cross isn’t there.” His brain runs through endless scenarios, encouraged by the thoughts he’s been keeping at bay for days, weeks, and months.
There is: appearing over Kamino to countless, looming Imperial ships and being caught in their unrelenting grip, all of them being subject to whatever the Empire has planned for them. Omega being subject to the things they rescued her from Kamino for. Losing all of them, not just Crosshair.
There is also: appearing to an empty Kamino, to the deserted shell of their home, to an abandoned platform with Crosshair long-gone. A confirmation of Hunter’s fears that Crosshair is well and truly lost to them, and all of them have to leave Kamino empty-handed again, with the image of destroyed Tipoca City being the last thing they’ll ever see.
There is finally: Crosshair on that platform for three days, alone, without supplies and also without the Empire. Where would that leave them standing? Hunter is unclear where he stands with all of them currently, an ache which now includes Omega.
How could he ever bear to face them again if they arrive back at Kamino and they find Crosshair dead ?
“I’m sorry.”
Hunter lets his eyes fall closed again, so he doesn’t have to see the looks on all their faces. Hunter knows that they know he rarely apologises; he does things for the better of his batch and deals with the fallout later. But this is different. Important.
--
Tech
Tech was exhausted.
His eyes hurt from the tears he could not abate, burning at his eyes and choking his lungs and heart and his mind as his emotions failed him. Tech rubbed at the bridge of his nose as he tried, desperately, to push his emotions back into the careful wall he had created during the Clone Wars, but he could not. Tech failed. He failed .
Wrecker’s voice carried through the cockpit, a soft, soothing quality to it that Tech tried to latch onto. He hears Wrecker’s reassurances and wavers as his brother’s affectionate love for Tech hisses through the cockpit. Tech believes Wrecker - he always has, for Wrecker cannot lie - and lets out a choked sigh as he tries to quell his sobbing.
But what could he say to Wrecker? What words could Tech pull from his vast intelligence that could tell Wrecker how much Tech loves his brother? How much Tech needs Wrecker’s comfort and wants to curl into his brother’s chest and cry on his oldest brother? There were no words for what Tech needed, nor was he proficient in emotional intelligence like Wrecker was to be able to properly explain his emotions.
Tech let out a breath and weakly - too quietly for anyone to hear -, whispered, “I need you, Wrecker…”
The realization of how desperate Tech had always been for comfort and affection from his brothers - the knowledge that every decision he’d ever made to join his brothers and fight alongside them - because of Tech’s deep need for family ached. Wrecker was his brother, and Tech had never needed Wrecker’s brash, open affection for his brothers as badly as he did there, in the Havoc Marauder ’s cockpit.
Then, Hunter spoke. Hearing Hunter admit that Tech was right shocked him, almost enough to stop the shaking of Tech’s shoulders as he sobbed, and the burning in his eyes as he continued to cry for every emotion he’d held back - and for every mistake Tech had made since he’d been decanted. Hunter continued, his words focused just as they were blurred by Tech’s irrational emotions and the loss of control over his bodily functions.
Tech digested every word Hunter said as he heard Wrecker’s deep rumble roll through the shuttle, placing the blame for their mutiny solely upon Wrecker’s broad shoulders. Tech stiffened at the idea, not wishing to hear Wrecker blame himself, but he did not interrupt. Instead, Tech listened as Wrecker implored Hunter for why they had all changed - and Tech wished he could speak instead of cry like the fool he was to add to Wrecker’s statement.
Clone Force 99 never abandoned their brothers, no matter the odds, circumstances and risks during the Clone Wars. Tech and Wrecker had risked life and limb to rescue Hunter and Crosshair on Fondor after their mission had gone awry, and they had nearly died - but they had rescued their brothers and were whole once again. So why had the Empire changed them? Why had Crosshair turning on them - logically due to his chip - made the entirety of Clone Force 99 willing to turn their backs and ignore the truth of what they had done?
They had abandoned their brother and abandoned their ideals. Tech was far too passive to ever argue against Hunter’s choices, far too cowardly to stand up for Crosshair and the unit they had been during the Clone Wars. But Wrecker had given Tech the strength to stand against Hunter - even when Tech’s mind screamed and his emotions boiled inside his chest at his betrayal - and Tech knew he had Wrecker by his side.
Even if Hunter was never able to agree with Tech and Wrecker’s choice, at least Tech knew he had one of his brothers in full support of his defiance. Of his mutiny. Wrecker and Tech both wanted the same thing - to be Clone Force 99 once again - and they could only achieve that by returning to Kamino.
Tech’s fingers shifted to unlock the cockpit doors for Wrecker when another voice joined in, higher than the rest of his brothers and much louder than Tech had ever heard Omega, though he could not hear what she was saying for his screaming mind. All Tech heard was her anger and the notable silence that followed. Until Hunter spoke once more.
“Okay. Okay. We’ll jump back to Kamino. We can check Cross isn’t there.”
Tech listened to Hunter and almost wanted to snip that they were already on their way to Kamino - taking the most dangerous hyperspace route Tech knew would increase their speed tenfold to Kamino - but Tech held his tongue. He picked apart every word Hunter had said, each sentence played over and over in Tech’s impeccable memory - then paused.
For everything that Hunter had said, one sentence stood out even as Tech’s thoughts whirled like a typhoon: “All I’m thinking about is what’s best for the whole squad.” Tech felt his fingers dig against his gloved palms, biting at his skin even through the fabric - anything to dispel the rage he felt at Hunter’s words.
Tech took a deep breath to try and curb the venom resting on his tongue, but Tech had no control. He had lost it when he’d defied Hunter, and Tech could not regain it. Not now. Not after Daro. Not after Kamino and Crosshair. Anger burned through his chest, burning so hotly that Tech wished he could remove his heart and use his brain to think. Tech hated his emotions and hated what they did to him. How he rebelled for his emotions and how he had hurt Hunter.
“I’m sorry.”
Hunter’s apology douses some of the fire that has been eating Tech alive, but not enough for him to respond properly. Hunter had hurt Tech, as selfish and arrogant of Tech that was to think, and he could no longer bite his tongue. Tech glared a hole into the Havoc Marauder ’s hyperspace control, then uncurled his fingers and let out a low, humorless laugh.
“The last time we were a whole squad was on Kaller. We are not protecting the whole squad by avoiding Kamino, because we never have been whole. This decision is the only correct one we can make, Hunter. We will be arriving at Kamino in exactly six hours and forty-six minutes.”
Tech swallowed as his anger finally fully dispelled and he deactivated the locking mechanism for the cockpit. Tech needed Wrecker. Needed his brother’s strength and warmth and love, but he could not face anyone else - so, with his voice stronger than before, Tech repeated his earlier plea to Wrecker.
“I need you, Wrecker, please.”
--
Wrecker
Wrecker went into the cockpit as soon as it opened, lifted Tech out of the seat and onto his lap on the ground, putting his head on top of Tech’s and rubbing his back.
It was so easy to just carry all of them like it was nothing.
Omega’s and Hunter’s and Tech’s words were all trying to settle into something coherent he could make out.
Omega was pissed. Which made Hunter sorry. And Tech was still only being Tech-ish, not full blown Tech.
Hunter only agreed because of Omega, didn’t he? He couldn’t say that now but. He did. He only agreed because Omega was upset.
“It’s ok, Tech. It’s alright.”
--
Echo
Tech and Wrecker were spitting venom at Hunter, but when Omega came marching into the room throwing toys and exploding in a blaze of fury unanticipated by any of them something in Echo finally snapped.
As Hunter muttered soft apologies in a tone Echo had never heard come from their gruff sergeant, he slipped his arm across the man next to him's shoulders.
Because there wasn't a time too long ago when it was Echo sitting in the Marauder feeling utterly alone. His first few weeks had been rough. The boys respected him, yes, but he spent the better part of that period wondering if they actually liked him. Did they regret asking him to join them? Did he regret leaving Rex and the 501st? His own breaking point came after a mission when Echo was forced into the empty chamber of a torpedo launcher by an assassin droid. Suddenly Echo was back there. The stasis chamber. The operating table. Techno Union scientists peering down at him with curiosity and greed, but never care. Never sympathy and certainly never remorse.
The panic only subsided— didn't stop— when the door opened and he was faced with all four members of the Bad Batch staring at him.
"The door was unlocked ," Crosshair had said before rolling his eyes and walking away. Echo was embarrassed. His misstep did not affect the outcome of the mission but the others were annoyed with having to race out of their way to "save him" from an unlocked torpedo tube. Echo thought they were gonna send him back to Rex. He sat down on his bunk with the intention of packing his things preemptively— only to realize he had no things of his own. Just his armor which was already painted the Clone Force 99 dark gray color, but Echo had been lagging on personalizing. So not even that felt like his own.
It was Hunter that sat down next. Put his arm around his shoulders. "It happens to the best of us," Hunter had said. "The important thing is being honest about when the dreams are back so we can help you."
It was an olive branch in a war that Echo himself had contrived within his head. Sometimes they are really bad at expressing their emotions, though. Even worse at adjusting to new situations.
Echo glances around. Tech has admitted Wrecker into the cockpit and swiftly replaced the door. Now it's just him and Hunter— and Omega who still lingers nearby. Bad at expressing emotions and adjusting to new situations is right.
Echo agrees that they shouldn’t have left Crosshair alone on Kamino. He agrees that not trying to save him from the empire sooner and getting his chip removed was a mistake. And he certainly agrees that Hunter has made some mistakes when it comes to leading this squad according to his own opinions and not gathering the input of the others.
But as an officer himself, Echo knows he's trying. Being a leader is more than giving orders, it's holding the squad's lives on his shoulders. Sometimes that means being the one to make tough decisions. Leaders can be wrong though, and were this entire conversation not fueled by what appears to be a lot of pent up emotions on the subject, maybe the squad wouldn't be crumbing the way it is.
Am I being heartless? Echo wonders. Echo's heart is for sure still human— one of the few things that weren't replaced with cybernetics. He looks around at the other faces scrunched up with turmoil. While he feels strongly about returning to get Crosshair he is not having this same emotional reaction. Hevy's voice rings in his memory. "What the hell is wrong with you Echo?" The question was rhetorical at the time, but suddenly Echo is asking the same of himself.
And then it hits him. This is not about leaving Crosshair at all, is it? This is about the very real prospect that they left Crosshair and in the three days they've been gone, their brother has died. They've never lost anyone before. Have they? He just... assumed they were... used to it like so many clones grew to be past a certain point in the war. Like Echo was.
And now they're having to confront this reality that not only could Crosshair be dead, but they were the ones that left him there. The way they are lashing out at one another is not just anger, it's fear.
"Hunter, if the Empire is there we will deal with it. And if Crosshair is still there... well, we will deal with that too. Whatever the outcome." Hunter's eyes are closed, head bowed with solemness. Echo squeezes his shoulder, his voice low enough that only Hunter will be able to hear him. "I know you're trying to protect everyone. Trust me, I know. But I also know what it's like to lose brothers. What it's like to be completely powerless in saving them. That sort of grief is something you can't just fight through, Hunter. No matter how enhanced or deviant your DNA is." Echo pauses, letting out a shaky breath of his own. "So I want to make you an open offer. If you want to relinquish your command for this extraction mission, I will lead this one. I'll make sure everyone is safe, and you can focus on making things right with the guys and Omega. I'm here to help, Hunter, not undermine you. So the choice is yours."
--
Tech
Tech failed to notice when Wrecker stepped into the cockpit, nor did he hear the cockpit doors hiss shut behind his oldest brother’s entry. Tech didn’t even notice when Wrecker hovered over him, that is until he felt Wrecker’s arms wrap around his frame and he was lifted up into his brother’s strong, unbreakable hold.
Tech leaned into Wrecker as he felt Wrecker slump to the floor carefully, his oldest brother’s hand rubbing at Tech’s back as Wrecker breathed out quiet reassurances, “It’s okay, Tech. It’s alright.”
Wrecker’s words were meant to comfort Tech as he continued to fail at controlling his tears, but Tech could not help but see everything that was wrong. He had always struggled with sudden changes in his lifestyle, even from the earliest of Tech’s memories.
Since the day the Republic had fallen and the Empire had taken over, Tech had struggled to adjust to everything new being thrown his way. He had no structure to his days until Hunter had agreed to work for Cid, though her missions were a flimsy grasp at daily structure that only just staved off Tech’s insecurity. The Republic and Jedi Council had always been unpredictable in their missions for Tech and his brothers, but they had at least provided supplies, resources and relative safety to Clone Force 99.
Now, Tech had to calculate the credits they would need for every expenditure his brothers were forced into. Tech had to rely solely on himself to find planets where his brothers could hide, and even then his data was no longer accurate and trustworthy. He’d learned his lesson on Daro about how useless Tech’s knowledge was in this new, violent Imperial era. Tech’s old handler had been correct when she’d told Tech that his intelligence came solely from his ability to memorize facts, for he had never once thought critically about the changes the Empire would logically make to the galaxy.
Everything was upended and Tech hated how often he felt like he was drowning because of his inability to quickly adjust to new situations.
He had struggled with Echo, who had not been on the Havoc Marauder one day, then was suddenly there - every day. Tech did not know how to adjust to Echo’s methods or the fact there was a fifth member to the team. It had taken weeks and weeks for Tech to adjust to Echo’s presence, weeks for Tech to not jump whenever he heard Echo’s voice rattle through the shuttle - Tech knew Wrecker, Hunter and Crosshair’s voice, but he remembered Echo’s timbre as that of the clones who had always bullied Tech. Adjusting to that voice being concerned or teasingly sarcastic had taken Tech far too long to adjust to, but he eventually had.
Tech hadn’t slept much at all when Echo had first joined his unit, until Echo had started to open up to Tech. Echo let Tech talk, and he had usually shown care in listening to Tech’s long-winded dissertations on local flora and fauna. Echo’s willingness to accept Tech even for his defectiveness and abnormal brain chemistry had helped him. But it had still taken weeks for Tech to accept Echo as part of his family, and that had been in an era of relative structure and stability.
Losing Crosshair the very week that Tech had lost the Republic’s reliability and safety had toppled everything. He’d lost his best friend, and Tech still awoke to memories of Crosshair sitting beside him or laughing at one of Tech’s odder facts. Tech missed Crosshair desperately - missed his brother’s rigid support and unyielding loyalty - and Tech did not want to adjust to never having Crosshair beside him.
Tech had been a coward, always afraid of confrontations and disagreements, in never arguing to try and rescue Crosshair. He had let his best friend down, and Tech could do nothing but put every ounce of blame for abandoning Crosshair on himself. If Tech allowed himself to blame Hunter, he knew he would break even further than he already had. It had been Hunter’s reluctance to mention Crosshair that had convinced Tech to remain silent over his best friend, but it was Tech’s nervousness and deep-set fear of being abandoned by his brothers that had sealed Tech’s silence.
Tech had given up Crosshair, had been thrust into a new world order, and had to adjust to a child amongst their midsts. Tech did not like children as Crosshair always had, for Tech did not understand them. He did not understand a child’s need for play or how to socialize amongst peers, and Tech was hopelessly out of his depth when it came to living with a child.
Omega was… Someone Tech still had not fully adjusted to. He never knew how to interact with the child, and had taken to showing Omega how to maintain spare bits and odds around the shuttle in an attempt to bond with her that did not involve the open honesty children seemed possessed with. He had not felt comfortable with teaching her to fly his shuttle - she was not physically strong enough to hold the shuttle, nor tall enough to see out of the viewport safely - but Hunter and Echo’s insistence had worn on him.
The Havoc Marauder was the only stability Tech had now, and he felt safest sitting at the controls of the shuttle. Giving that up to his brothers or Omega was only by sheer necessity and one Tech still struggled with. All he wanted was stability and structure, and Tech had lost it all in the span of two short days. He was emotionally drained and mentally exhausted, yet Tech had to stay calm and rational for his brothers.
And now he’d lost it all. He’d snapped at Hunter, had allowed his brothers to finally see how out of control Tech was when he didn’t suppress his emotions, and he’d begged for Wrecker’s closeness.
Tech dug his fingers into the fabric of Wrecker’s blacks, pressed his face into his brother’s broad chest, and broke down. He felt childish and burdensome as his tears soaked Wrecker’s blacks, his sobs aching and agonizing as he tried to breathe - tried to calm himself down, and tried to shove his emotions under control.
But he could not. Tech dug the fingers of his left hand against Wrecker’s arm and cracked out a desperately pleading apology to his brother.
An apology for breaking emotionally, an apology for being a burden, and a soft apology for not acting sooner to help Crosshair.
--
Wrecker
Tech was leaning into him, repeating over and over how sorry he was, how he should be better, noticed sooner.
“We all messed up, but we’re fixing it- we are. We are. We’re going back to Kamino. Gonna find Crosshair.”
Because Hunter agreed with Omega, was left out.
“Gonna find Crosshair- and- and we’re gonna find him. ‘N see how much he hates Cid. ‘N how much she hates him.”
If he was alive, if he wasn’t at the bottom of the sea—
Kriff, think straight, he had to think straight— okay. Tech didn’t do this. But Cross had migraines and Hunter had overloads and Echo had panic attacks and Omega had nightmares, a lot of fucking nightmares. He’s done this before, he’s done it.
He pressed Tech into him a little bit tighter, “can I take your goggles? You don’t have to speak just nod or shake your head, yeah?”
He’s done this before, he’s done it before, he’s did it before-
--
Tech
“We all messed up, but we’re fixing it- we are. We are. We’re going back to Kamino. Gonna find Crosshair. Gonna find Crosshair- and- and we’re gonna find him. ‘N see how much he hates Cid. ‘N how much she hates him.”
A momentary lapse of amusement breaks through the turmoil inside Tech at Wrecker’s comment, though the smile that flits across Tech’s mouth lasts only for a moment. Crosshair would hate Cid on principle, and Tech could already see Crosshair’s sneer at whatever name - likely Toothpick or Grumpy - Cid made up for him. Crosshair would turn his nose to her and glare over her head, his hatred for her growing whenever the Trandoshan would call Tech “Goggles”.
Crosshair had always been the first to jump into a brawl with the regs on Kamino when they were cadets, no matter the reason or the punishment, Crosshair had always been there for Tech. And Tech had failed to do the same for his brother - until now. Tech had one chance to make things right for Crosshair, and he hoped they would reach their brother in time.
Already, Tech had a list of symptoms he imagined Crosshair would be suffering through… if Crosshair was still alive. It was unlikely, judging from the planetary scan Tech had done of Kamino as they left, that any rainstorms had struck the planet and provided Crosshair with the water he needed. And there was no shade for his brother to use to protect himself from the sun’s blazing rays, or to shield his sensitive eyes from the harsh UV lights of the sun.
If Crosshair was still alive, he was going to be close to death, and Tech hoped he would reach his brother in time. It would be almost four days of constant sun and no water for the stubborn sniper, and a normal human could only survive three days without water. Crosshair, and all the clones, could last longer without food or water because of their enhanced genes, but it was still pushing the line.
Tech felt Wrecker pull him closer to his chest, then heard - and felt - his brother’s deep rumble through his sturdy chest. “Can I take your goggles? You don’t have to speak, just nod or shake your head, yeah?”
Tech hesitated in his decision, hesitated in trusting Wrecker with his sight, but Tech knew he could trust Wrecker. Just as Crosshair had always been there for Tech, so too had Wrecker. With a sigh and an acceptance of trust, Tech relented with a nod and allowed Wrecker to become the sole source of comfort to Tech.
He hoped, desperately, that they would reach Crosshair in time and maybe, just maybe, they could provide the same comfort to Crosshair as Wrecker had always given to Tech and his brothers.
--
Hunter
The unsteady ground that Hunter has been wandering over finally evens out with the sudden, gruelling realisation that accompanies Echo’s words. The thoughts that have taunted Hunter since leaving Kamino the first time - did I do the right thing? - and the seeds of doubt planted by side-glances, too-hard shoulder checks, and increasingly tense debriefs with Cid sprout into an understanding that: they don’t want you to lead them anymore .
Echo’s arm around Hunter’s shoulders was comforting when it found its way there, another silent show of support from their newest brother, and reminiscent of the times Hunter fulfilled the role for Echo the same during the war. Now it feels suffocating, making his skin crawl, and coupled with how his thoughts refuse to slow down, his head feels like it’s buzzing.
He shrugs Echo off, threads both hands into his hair and pulls. The sensation is welcome to drown out the sounds of Wrecker and Echo in the cockpit, the scent of anger pungent throughout the entirety of the ship, and the insistent buzzing in his head that won’t stop.
They don’t want you to lead them anymore. They don’t think you’ve done the right thing. They don’t trust you .
At the very least, the weight of the realisation drowns out all the other hurt in his chest. It is a certain answer to the question that has been plaguing him for months, too scared to approach the topic with his brothers as they navigated a galaxy none of them had any experience in dealing with. As they adapted to caring for a child, one who did change them, and changes that Hunter thought were for the best. He gave them time and space to adapt, as he needed, and he thought they all needed as well.
All that gave them was time to do… whatever this is. He couldn’t put a word to it. It wasn’t mutiny, nor a betrayal, nor anything Hunter could summon any sadness or anger about. The fact that it is Echo putting forward the proposal makes it far easier to steady himself, to plant his feet on this new threshold they find themselves on and digest it.
Hunter trusts Echo with his life. He has, and will again, put his and his batch’s life into the ARC Trooper’s hands. Even before that, Echo’s ARC training and his extensive experience gives him perhaps a far better edge over navigating the new galaxy they found themselves in.
Maybe Hunter should have asked him sooner, more formally, directly and obviously than listening to Echo’s concerns when he raised them - like on Daro. The definition of the right thing to do was muddied there, too.
It appears it’s been muddied for a long time. The anger Hunter felt at the locked cockpit door feels like a lifetime ago.
Hearing all his brothers’ concerns, no matter if they are weighed down by anger, or hurt, or lack of trust, makes Hunter realise he’s delusional trying to hold onto any shred of anger about the situation. This is what they all thought the right thing to do is, and with the humming of his head, Hunter can’t find any energy to disagree. He was bred to lead, but if his brothers can’t trust him to do even that, why disagree at all?
They don’t trust you.
He wants to snarl back, at himself, Do you blame them? You haven’t trusted yourself in a long time .
“Take the mission,” he replies to Echo. The words bubble out of his throat uncomfortably and taste sour. The pressure on his scalp isn’t helping to alleviate the horrible taste in his mouth. “Make sure they’re safe. Cross too.”
Crosshair isn’t a mission, but that’s the structure Hunter has been trying to hold onto since the day the Republic fell, and it appears it’s also where Hunter went wrong from the very start.
Crosshair is their brother and Hunter, consciously, turned around and left him there at the mercy of himself and the Empire. He wants so desperately to believe the Empire picked him up and that the hidden platform would have long-retreated back into the sea to join the rest of Tipoca City. He almost wishes for it to be true, so he then doesn’t have to face his brothers when they do find Crosshair there and it’s because Hunter left him there.
And if Crosshair is there, but is dead?
How could he ever make things right? How could he call himself a leader ever again?
Hunter doesn’t even know where to start currently. Though the ground may be steady between his brothers now - no matter how much he yearns over the decision they’ve made - Crosshair’s fate is still uncertain. They won’t know for a few hours. And Hunter has to fill the time, has to stop his head from buzzing, and not make things worse until they find out if they are right. Omega is still on the ship, and is probably watching Hunter trying not to crumble into his hands right now. He can’t make her worry. Especially not her.
He takes an anchoring breath, like he would in those sensory tanks, like he would when they’d be split up on Kamino, like he would during the war when he was debating on what the right thing to do was. He releases the vice grip on his hair and scrubs his hand gently through his roots, trying to dissipate the accompanying pain from the lack of pressure. The buzzing dies down slightly as he continues to breathe, but doesn’t relent completely.
“If this is what you all want,” he goes on, his voice still tasting bitter, “then I trust you.”
--
Echo
Echo had chosen his words carefully. At least, he thought he did. He didn't want to seize control of the situation, he just wanted to offer his help so Hunter wasn't being pulled in two directions between his sense of duty and his family.
But then Hunter flinched away from him as though Echo had slapped him in the face with his scomp link hand and his stomach dropped with dread.
I fucked up, didn't I?
"Take the mission ," Hunter finally says. But he makes it sound like Echo deliberately tore it from his hands. "Make sure they're safe. Cross too."
Hunter isn't looking at him. He's staring off somewhere else, his fingers carded through his hair and Echo can tell he's tugging at his roots. For someone with sensory sensitivities that cannot feel good.
"If this is what you want... then I trust you," Hunter finishes.
Internally, Echo is starting to panic. He didn't mean to— fuck— he didn't want to undermine Hunter. It's the last thing he wanted. Echo considers himself a leader, but he doesn't want to be The Leader.
"Want this?" Echo says incredulously. "Hunter, I'm not— I don't... You are the leader of this squad. Nothing's ever gonna change that. Certainly not me. This is not me asking to take charge of looking for Crosshair. I just wanna know what you need right now. Not just as your corporal but as your brother. "
--
Hunter
“What I need ?” Hunter looks back at Echo, though isn’t prepared for the look of hurt and panic on his face. He looks the same as Hunter feels. “I need to stop convincing myself I’m doing the right thing when I’m not. I need to listen to you, all of you, and I need to…”
He lets the words drift off as the buzzing in his head intensifies, making him put his head back into hands. He recognises it now; the start of too much settling over him and overwhelming him. He hasn’t felt like this in… a long time. Or, perhaps, hasn’t let himself succumb to this in the months of trying to keep his batch alive through the ever-changing galaxy they find themselves in.
After a moment, he continues, his voice a lot lower, “I need to keep you all alive. And if that means… whatever you all want it to mean, it’s fine. Whatever I need to do to make sure you’re all okay, I’ll do it.”
--
Echo
Hunter's eyes are wide. So wide Echo can see the whites all the way around his light brown irises. Does he realize he's shaking? Echo thinks, glancing down at the tremor that has begun moving through his entire body.
When Hunter speaks, it's rushed, low, and almost out of breath in a way. What strikes Echo the most is that he keeps referring to all of them.
"I need to listen to you, all of you"
"Whatever you all want it to mean"
"To make sure you're all okay"
All of you. And here, Echo thought he was the only one talking to Hunter at this present moment. The only one sitting here with him. But the longer he keeps talking to Hunter, the more pieces snap into place.
He thinks this is some sort of... mutiny.
Oh. Oh no.
Maybe if Hunter didn't look like he was about to go into a full sensory meltdown, Echo might know what to do here. But suddenly he's at a loss, frozen in place. On one hand he wants to reassure Hunter that this is not some planned attack on his command. On the other hand, he needs to get him somewhere where he can calm down.
The tragedy of it all is Echo will have to take control if Hunter needs to go into sensory lockdown. And what will that look like to him? Will he truly believe that he and the others weren't plotting some sort of coup?
Ultimately, Echo has to make a decision. And it's one he is not pleased to have to make.
"Hunter, take care of yourself right now," he says, firm but as soft and sympathetic as he can. Echo uses the same words that Hunter often employs to tell him to chill out. Somehow he always knows Echo's panic attacks are coming far before he does. "I can see your senses are starting to act up," He doesn't want to touch him in the middle of a sensory overload so he raises his hands in the universal symbol of surrender. "I'll handle things. But as soon as you're feeling better we're going to talk about this. Okay?"
Nothing Echo says while he is in overload is going to make a difference. Especially if it is just coming from him. He needs the help of the others to do this.
--
Omega
Omega looks around and immediately feels bad for yelling at her brothers, she climbs the ladder down and walks to Hunter, when she gets close she puts a hand on Echo’s shoulder and gives him a small nod, she then kneels next to Hunter and gently reach up to slither her arms under his and wedged herself on him hugging him “Hunter you need to trust them, you’re a team and you’re their leader, but you need to trust them, they’re your brothers” she whispers, her tired and slightly sulking eyes looking up at him “they need you but you need them too” she adds.
--
Hunter
Not much unlike the slow trek across the surface of the ocean, Omega's weight in Hunter's lap becomes an anchor. He knows Echo is right, can feel the insistent yet unappeasable feeling settling over his entire body, yet can't find the energy - or the want - to ask her to remove herself where she's slotted herself against his chest like she belongs there.
"Thanks," he gets out, though he's not sure who it's to. Not exactly the response they're looking for, perhaps, but all the racing of thoughts is going to offer him at this moment.
Usually, he'd go lay down, dim the lights and block out the sounds of the Havoc Marauder.
Though right now, the continued sound of Omega breathing against him, the vague scent of sea salt still in her hair, and her hesitant arms around him - it's enough and he lets himself wrap his arms around her to hold on. He should have hugged her cycles ago.
--
Omega
Omega is surprised for a moment when he hugs her back and has to fight the urge to cry, guilt gripping at her guts, she shouldn’t have yelled at them, she shouldn’t have yelled at Hunter or throw Lula at him, she shouldn’t have lied to them, she should’ve fought more, to insist that they go back for Crosshair but most importantly she shouldn’t have sought them out back on Kamino, not when Nala Se told her not to, her insubordination is what got them to this, her sitting at their table and instigating the food fight with the regs was the no turning back point, what sealed their fate was that faithful night they all escaped Kamino, leaving crosshair behind. “I'm sorry Hunter,” she says in a whisper “I'm sorry for everything” she adds hugging him a bit tighter
--
Echo
A small hand appears on his shoulder. Echo looks to the side to find Omega has finally moved from the spot she's been lingering. The startling rage he saw in her eyes earlier has dimmed into softly glowing embers as she nods at him and then turns her attention to Hunter.
Echo slides to the side to give her room. And as she throws herself into Hunter’s arms he slides a little further. Suddenly feeling out of place, Echo pulls himself to his feet. Neither Hunter or Omega react when he leaves them alone.
The barracks are empty— Tech and Wrecker still locked in the cockpit. Hunter and Omega wrapped in each other's tight embraces. Finally with some distance between himself and the maelstrom of... whatever just happened, he lets his shoulders sag and slips into the safe confines of his bunk.
But coming here quickly turns into a mistake because his eyes habitually drop to the photograph pasted to the side of his bunk. Cody, Fives, Rex and him— (well... who he used to be, at least. Echo doesn't quite recognize himself— but he's not sure if the person he doesn't know anymore is who stares back at him in the photograph or who appears in the reflection of the fresher mirror.)
The others in that photograph, though, will always be familiar. At times like these when he has absolutely no idea if his presence is making things better or fucking them up even more, Echo can't help but long to have Fives pulling him into a hug so tight his feet leave the ground. Or Rex squeezing his shoulder. Or Cody talking to him because somehow he always knows the exact right thing to say to make him feel better. He loves Clone Force 99, of course. They've grown to be his brothers in their own right. He would die for them just as easily as he would die for any of his old 501st brothers. But he'd be lying if he didn't feel like a stranger at times. Especially when stuff like... this happens. No matter what reassurances Hunter has offered him in the past.
Echo lies down in his bunk. The photograph is right at eye level now. Echo wraps his arms tightly around himself, swallowing the lump in his throat. The lull of hyperspace reminds him of the uncertainty to come when they arrive at Kamino. Will Crosshair be there? Will he be okay? If the Empire hasn't picked him up by now 'okay' may be wistful thinking.
Will he be alive?
A shiver runs down his spine.
Or will it be a trap, like Hunter believes?
Echo closes his eyes, not in the mood to continue thinking about this sort of thing. They'll figure it out, whatever happens. They always do.
Under the watchful eye of his wayward brothers, sleep comes surprisingly easily.